I don’t know why it was surprising to me that a third grader hadn’t been introduced to the theory of evolution, but I enjoyed the opportunity to think it through with Kina, who was really hung up on the idea that Lucy–an australopithecine ancestor of modern humans (with whom Laurea and Kina are both obsessed)—had parents who might have been chimps.
When did we stop being chimps and start being humans? Was one generation chimp-ly and the next human-ly? What was so different about Lucy?
I told Kina that we don’t stop being one thing and start being another. I am a little chimpier, maybe, than she is. She is closer to the future of who we are than I am.
She seemed, in that moment, to wonder about what the next bit of humanity might look like. I told her that she is curious, like I am, and that she is “sneaky” (her term), like her Mommy is.
“Your kids, if you have them, could be sneaky and curious, like you are, and if they have kids, those kids may also be sneaky and curious—and all the people after them will be a little more curious and a little sneakier.”
She seemed satisfied with that—enough, at least, that she was comfortable putting her bike helmet on her little human head and settling in for a ride over the bridge. It would not surprise me if she spent that whole ride wondering about who her parents are, and her parents’ parents, and their parents, all the way back to Lucy and the chimps.
It would not surprise me if she spent that whole ride wondering about who would follow her, and who might follow them, and so on until the day another kid wakes up and wonders where she came from.
She’s curious that way. She gets it from us.
dad